


Poisoned air

by ferggirl



Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferggirl/pseuds/ferggirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don’t you worry about me," Jess says brightly, "I’ve got a gas mask and a plan. I’ll see you guys out there."</p>
<p>Then she mutes her microphone. No sense in them hearing the results of her lies. </p>
<p>She’s not expecting to leave alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poisoned air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alessandralee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/gifts).



"It’s spreading to the main floors. Matt, we need to evacuate the building  _now!_ ”

Jess’s voice is urgent, worried, as her fingers fly across her keyboard. She’s manually locking the doors she can, overriding the override as the hackers direct the primeval contagion to her trapped team.

"We can’t do much of anything until you get that door open, Jess," Matt’s answer is calm, she knows he’ll have a backup plan in place. 

But that door’s lock is buried under piles of malicious code. She’s been slicing away at them for minutes now. 

"Almost there," she mutters. "Get ready."

With a cry of success she cracks it, seeing the icon blink green. She can hear the rush of confusion on their end as everyone files out. 

"Ok, Jess," Connor calls to her, "now you have to go too!"

"Don’t you worry about me," she says brightly, "I’ve got a gas mask and a plan. I’ll see you guys out there."

Then she mutes her microphone. No sense in them hearing the results of her lies. 

She’s not expecting to leave alive.

The truth is she’s only got minutes before the contagion breaches her location, She could slow it down, but she needs that time to clear a path for the team to leave the ARC. It’s a choice she doesn’t have to think about.

Besides, she’d loaned her gas mask to that janitor last week when he’d had to clean up the herbivore dung. He’d torn the lining, the thing is useless. Jess has been meaning to get another.

Becker’s been very quiet, she thinks, letting her mind wander as her fingers and instincts take over in fighting the virus. She had hoped he’d give her a chance to… to say goodbye. 

But maybe it’s better this way. If he knew he’d do something stupid like try to save her. Gas masks fail regularly anyway. It’ll look like some terrible mistake.

But he’ll be - they’ll all be alive. 

Matt’s voice crackles across the comms. “Final door, where are we meeting you, Becker?”

"Just have to make my detour." Becker’s voice is tight with concern. Jess glances up at the screen to see that his indicator has peeled away from the rest. 

He’s heading right for her. 

She frantically unmutes her comm. 

"What are you doing? Go with them, Becker!"

He huffs, but doesn’t answer. She gets the exterior door open just long enough to let the team slip out, but in the meantime, the contagion has crept to just outside the hub. Those particular doors were never built to hermetically seal, just to hold fast in the face of a dinosaur. Even if she could lock them down, it wouldn’t help. Their attackers know that.

It won’t be long now. 

She slides her broken mask on. Becker crashes through the door on the opposite side, his own gas mask in place. 

It’s only three long strides and she’s in his arms. 

"What did you think," he yells through the apparatus, "that I was going to let you find your way out alone?"

"I wish you had," she says, clinging to him. "It will be so much harder this way."

Then she curses because Becker is many things - strong, proud, occasionally bull-headed - but he is not stupid. 

He rips both their masks off and stares down at her. 

"Tell me, right now."

She kisses him instead, a desperate, needy kiss that channels all of her fear and sadness and regret into passion. Her hands slide onto his shoulders, into his hair. They pull apart when the buzzer on the console warns of the contagion breaching the perimeter of the room.

"Oh, you do have nice hair," she says, a bit dazed. He grins.

"Time to go." He kisses her more gently, then slides her mask back onto her face and puts on his own.

He takes her hand and they run, as though you can outrun poisoned air. She’s scared and each breath should be killing her. 

They’re in the main hallway before he falters. 

"Ok, Jess," he coughs, "you’re almost there."

"What do you mean I’m almost - oh, no, what have you done?" She feels the edges of her mask for the crack she knows should be there. It’s smooth and unblemished.

He stumbles, sliding to the floor. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

"Becker." She’s crying now, confused, angry sobs that she can’t wipe away. "No, no, no."

"At least," he heaves, the virus really taking hold as his body seizes, "at least you’re a good kisser."

She pulls him into her lap, murmuring promises of safety, of cures and of days to come. Lies, all of them. But they were supposed to be his. 

His hand clasps hers, and she can’t find anything to say.

"Let me do this," he says weakly. "All I ever wanted was to keep you safe, and make you smile."

"I was supposed to save you this time," she cries. 

He smiles painfully. “You already did.” 

Then his eyes slide shut. It’s another minute before his breathing slows and a few more before she feels his pulse stutter to a halt.

Matt finds her there two hours later, once lockdown has lifted. Her tears are dry under her gas mask, but she is still running her fingers through his hair.


End file.
